Category Archives: a peek into the exciting life of splotchy

I Splotchy, You Dale

I asked the incomparable dale if he wouldn’t mind shooting me some interview questions, as I had really enjoyed reading the interviews with bloggers he has conducted in recent weeks. He was very, very gracious to agree to interview me.

Here are his questions, and my answers.

1. Whether you’re using the written word, audio clips of your own voice, or creating new art by manipulating Toni Basil’s Hey Mickey! with excellent results, the many ways you get your point across keeps me in awe and thinking “I wish I’d thought of that!” Considering your film production background, have you ever considered video blogging?

Thank you so much for the kind words. I am honestly a little ignorant of video blogging. I saw a recent post by Jess, a blogger I regularly read, about some video blogging done by some Baghdad locals, but haven’t checked it out yet.

At this point, I don’t feel confident to undertake something of that nature, but maybe as I get more comfortable it could be something I’d like to explore. My wife bought a Mac laptop recently. I want to load Final Cut Pro, a really nice video editing suite, onto the computer, and learn how to use it. I have some video ideas that I want to play around with, so maybe that eventually could transition into a more regular video blog. I really have a fun time with old-fashioned writing, though.

2. Trapped on a long flight, would you rather sit next to Watchmen creators Dave Gibbons and Alan Moore (so you could discuss your geeky and exciting discovery) or Jim Woodring (so you could discuss your avatar)?

Either would be great, but I’d haveta go with Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons. I’ve read a lot of fascinating interviews with Alan Moore in particular, and would just relish being there to have a conversation. He’d probably hate sitting next to me and my stupid mouth, but before he got irretrievably perturbed perhaps I could get to ask him, “Hey, is Rorschach related to Seymour, the chubby red-haired assistant at the New Frontiersman, or am I just batshit crazy?”

3. If you were to make a feature film, a short film or even a porno flick, who would your top choice be for doing the score?

Wow, that’s a tough one. A tough, tough question. I actually envision scenes to a film in my head sometimes, and more often I imagine it set to a song I really admire, kinda like how Scorsese does the whole pop song to match up with some bit of action (I’m not putting myself up with him, I’m merely talking about his style of assembling a soundtrack).

Still, there’s something to be said about having an original score. I love Italian film composer Piero Umiliani, but he died a few years back. Mark Mothersbaugh (of Devo fame) has done some great soundtrack work.

However, the soundtrack to the Roman Polanski film The Ninth Gate was something that really bowled me over, composed by Wojciech Kilar. It was so great that I would want to make a movie that he would wanna score. Great stuff.

4. I regret not paying closer attention to your review of the film Fracture before renting it last week. Which film do you find yourself stopping time and again to watch at least part of when you come across it on television?

A few years ago, when Gladiator was on every goddamn pay channel on every goddamn half hour, I would find myself stopping to watch it ridiculously often. If I’d come across the Mickey Rourke or Clive Owen parts of Sin City, I’d stop to watch it (some nice stylized violence, coupled with the loveliness of Carla Gugino and/or Rosario Dawson). And, I must admit, I have a completely nonsexual mancrush on Clive Owen at this point in time. This crush may be the reason that the most recent stop-and-watch movie for me is Spike Lee’s Inside Man.

5. You’ve launched many successful series on your blog such as Actor Adoptions, Who’s In Charge and The Green Monkey Mix Project. Were you born with these ideas or do they just come to you? Is there an entire family of bloggers living in your brain? If someone snapped up the film rights to your blog, who would play the actors?

The ideas just come to me. I have a pretty active imagination, but haven’t really given myself an outlet for it for several years. I think it’s gushing out a bit at this point. With regards to having an actor or actors play some sort of bizarre (and boring!) dramatization of my blog, this is such an easy question to answer, and I am truly serious — David Patrick Kelly would be the first choice. It’s not a coincidence I picked to adopt him — I feel some sort of kinship with him. Perhaps that comes across as creepy, or disturbingly stalkerish, but I just like the man’s work, I reckon.

Thank you, Dale!

If’n anyone reading this post wants to be interviewed by yours truly,

You can:
Leave me a comment saying “Interview me.”

I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

You will update your blog with a post containing your answers to the questions.

and you can optionally…
include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post

and if you do…
When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

One Week Without A Coke

I have made it seven days without any kind of caffeinated beverage.

I noticed the cap to the last 20-oz Coke I imbibed sitting on my desk (no, I didn’t lick it, I didn’t talk to it, I didn’t kiss it).

To celebrate my sobriety, here are the codes found on the inside of the cap.


I honestly don’t know what these codes represent. If you end up using them and win a whole bunch of money, please split it with me. I gots babies to feed!

Going Cold Turkey On Soda

I mentioned in a comment on a Monkey Muck post that I was going to quit the soda (that’s what we call sugary, carbonated beverages from where I come from, not like the hep Chicagoans who call it “pop”). This is being done in solidarity with the dietary sacrifices being made by Doctor Monkey Von Monkerstein and SamuraiFrog.

This is the first day — you didn’t expect me to stay away from it during the Illinois State Fair, did you?! So far, one lunch without a Coke.

Making a public pronouncement like this to the three people who read my blog (that’s including me) will really help me keep to my promise.

I’m lucky in that probably my favorite drink is ice water. Yes, ice water. Delicious, delicious ice water.

Now if I can just stop the glue-huffing and chewing the asbestos gum, I’ll be feeling pretty good.

The Public Shame Of Handwashing Avoidance

Has this ever happened to you?

You have just evacuated your bladder and/or bowels in a bathroom at work, and, after flushing (you’re not an animal, after all), you make way for the door, just as another person walks in and sees you exiting the stall.

Spotted, you halt in mid-step, pivot, and walk back to the sink for a quick soap, rinse and dry, after which you sheepishly head out the door.

Never happened to you? Hey, me neither.

What Cartoon Characters Am I Hating Lately?


Oh, this goody-goody who repeats things over and over and over again. I hate her!


If I hate Dora, there’s a pretty good chance I’m going to hate her annoying monkey sidekick as well.


You’d think I would like Swiper, seeing as his main purpose is stealing things from Dora, Boots and the assorted other characters on the show. Well, you’d be wrong. Wrong, as in it’s wrong to steal.

Swiper, no swiping!
Swiper, no swiping!
Swiper, no swiping!

Here’s To Complex Emotions

Language is wonderful, and I’m all very fond of the English language, it being the most familiar to me, but language doesn’t always do justice to our experience.

There have been rare occasions, for example, when I’ll experience an emotion that a single word cannot describe. It will be complex enough that I’ll have to stop and think about what in the hell *am* I feeling at that point in time. These are pretty interesting moments, and I hope to have other people share one or two of their own personal “complex emotions.”

So, here’s one of mine.

I was just out of college, and there was a low-budget independent feature film being shot in my hometown of Springfield. For the most part, the cast and crew were from LA and New York.

I moved back in briefly with my parents, and managed to get on the film, working for free as a lowly Production Assistant. When one of the electrician crew got a little too wasted (wasted enough to get fired), I was given the opportunity to take his place.

I worked very hard for the rest of the film, learned a lot, etc. The director and the cinematographer of the movie had a history — they had done a couple movies before, and though they clashed once or twice during the production, one could see that they were very close.

So, the shooting of the movie finishes, and they’re having a wrap party at a local bar in Springfield. I was in a very good mood — I had feature film experience under my belt just out of college, and the film’s production company actually ended up paying me for my electrician work (which I hadn’t really been expecting).

So, I wanted to go up to the director during the wrap party at some point and express my sincere gratitude. I was getting ready to leave the party, and spotted him. At this moment, however, he and the cinematographer were talking. As I neared the two, I realized they were bonding over finishing yet another movie together. They weren’t crying or anything, but I could tell it was an emotional moment.

So, their moment ends, and then the cinematographer walks off. I walk up to the director, and say, “Michael, I just want to say how much I appreciate you giving me this chance. Thank you so much.” I can’t remember exactly what Michael said, but I do definitely remember he never looked at me while I was talking or while he responded. It felt like he was still in that other moment, and I seriously doubt if on the following day he would have remembered talking to me.

The thing was, I thought it was incredibly funny that he was ignoring me in my attempt to give thanks to him — that I was on the ass-end of someone else’s meaningful moment.

I guess my best attempt at describing what I was feeling would be “gloriously inconsequential.”

So, any of you out there care to share a sample of your own complex emotion?

Or am I just the most fragile, sensitive flower in the blogosphere?